Invisible Girl Part 10

Connor giggles. "Then what?"

"Well, then what happened," I say, "was that when he grew up to be a big strong man, Manchester United football club signed him up and gave him twenty million pounds. And then he played for England in the World Cup final. It was the best football match the world had ever seen because he scored 150 goals. The other team didn't stand a chance and everyone loved him the best. They all kept saying he was amazing and brilliant. They said he was a hero and carried him round on their shoulders. And eventually he became the greatest man the world had ever known."

Connor lets out a gentle sigh and stretches he legs. "I wish it was true," he mumbles.

I pretend to sprinkle magic warrior fairy dust all over him. But then the front door slams. The motorbike roars away.

"We have to be quick," says Connor jumping up. "We have to get the sheets off before she comes in."

"Before who comes in?" says Mum, opening the bedroom door. "The cat's mother?"

Connor's eyes go as wide and round as the moon. He drags the duvet off the bed, pulls at the sheet. I jump up too. I lift Jayda to help him, little drops of wee dripping off her pyjamas like rain.

"Connor," shouts Mum, "you idiot! You know it's your job to get her up. Now I've got all this lot to deal with. You're useless, just like your father. And as for you Jayda..." she threatens.

"It was my fault," I say, feeling like a lioness with her cubs, "not theirs. I was trying to keep them quiet like you said. You don't have to worry, I'll sort it all out."

Memories come flooding into my mind like seawater into a cave. Memories of Beckett protecting me, of him being punished for stuff he didn't do.

"You go and have a cup of tea," I say to Mum. "I'll get Connor ready for school; I'll get Jayda sorted. I'll give them breakfast; you won't have to do anything."

Mum is stunned into silence. She shrugs her shoulders and fluffs back downstairs like a bird. I run into the bathroom, fill up the bath with warm bubbly water and lift Connor and Jayda in. I sit on the toilet seat, squeezing the flannel over them, making warm rivers rush down their soft pink skin. Jayda giggles; she splashes the bubbles with her palms, she empties beakers of water over her head. Connor reaches up and touches my face with his bath-wrinkly fingers.

"Are you the magic warrior fairy?" he says.

And I shake my head because I don't feel magic at all. I'm searching hard for the minty numb feeling, but my insides keep on thumping each other with huge great fists of fear, cras.h.i.+ng together like angry waves.

"Who is she?" asks Connor, when he's dressed for school and ready downstairs.

"Good question, Connor," Mum says, pressing the remote control, making the telly a bit louder. She's watching Daybreak and it reminds me of Dad. She puffs on her cigarette, blowing hazy blue smoke rings into the room. "Very good question," she says.

I head to the kitchen and pour cereal into bowls for Connor and Jayda. Jayda clings to my leg, babbling away in gobbledegook, smiling and sucking her fist. Connor slides on the sofa next to Mum, sticks his thumb in his mouth and stares at the telly with s.h.i.+ny, glazed eyes. I take him his breakfast and sit Jayda on the floor to feed her. She keeps grabbing my hair, splas.h.i.+ng her fingers in the milk.

Mum rubs her hands together, digs a black wiggy bit of dirt from under her fingernail and flicks it on the floor. She looks at me. My heart leaps into my throat and burns.

"She's my niece," she says, winking at me. "That's it, Connor, she's your cousin and she's just popped by for a visit. Isn't that right, Gabriella?"

Connor waves at me, smiling. I stare at Mum in disbelief feeling like my skin is melting off my bones.

"But you don't have any brothers or sisters," I whisper, when Connor's lost in the telly again.

"Oh," Mum sneers, "you always were a bit of a Miss Smartypants, weren't you, Gabriella?"

"Just saying," I say, swallowing hard. "If I were your niece you'd have to have a brother or sister."

"Well, I don't know," she huffs. "Maybe I have, maybe they've just crawled out of the woodwork unexpectedly like you. The real question is, what am I going to do with you now? What am I going to tell Kev?"

"I told you last night," I whisper. "I'll just go. You don't have to worry about me."

I creep upstairs into the bathroom, undress and slip into Connor and Jayda's grey water. I never thought having a bath would feel this brilliant, even with sc.u.mmy soap froth floating on top. It would be even better if Mum weren't downstairs being mean, calling me her niece.

I don't care about her anyway.

I hate her.

I slosh loads of shampoo in my hand, lather it up and stick my head under the hot tap to rinse it off. I need to make a plan. I need to know what happened to Beckett. I need to find him.

Mum's silent all the way to Connor's school. My clothes are still wet from last night's rain and feel weird because they're Tia's and don't really fit me very well. I find myself wrapping my sleeve around my hand like a bandage, like Tia does. Mum gave me an old pair of her trainers with red strips on. I hate them. They're too big and they're rubbing my heels.

Connor scoots in circles, peering at me from under his fringe and smiling. Jayda babbles away in her pushchair, blowing kisses to everyone we pa.s.s.

I hate being with Mum. I remember her dragging me to school when I was small, me screaming, Beckett scurrying along to catch us up. I wish I could run away and forget all about her, forget that she ever existed.

I try to make a plan for if I don't find Beckett, but it only takes me back to Henny and Tia. I like being family with Henny, but I wish we could live in a real house together. I wish I were a grown-up and could get a job and take care of myself. I wish I didn't have to be here.

When we get back to Mum's house she puts the kettle on, slumps back on the sofa and stares at me.

"You've got those sheets to be getting on with, Missy."

I gather Jayda into my arms and take her up the stairs with me. I bundle up her sheets, find clean ones in the airing cupboard and make her bed all pretty and fresh with a line of cuddly teddies. Jayda squeals with laughter, climbs under the covers and smiles this big smile that makes my heart feel as warm as the sun. I slide in next to her.

"I'm actually your big sister, Jayda," I whisper, "not Mum's niece. And as well as Connor, we have this really big brother called Beckett. He's lovely. Really lovely. That means there's four of us, which means we're a big family."

I count four fingers to show her then brush bits of food and Lego blocks and plastic men out of Connor's bed, making his all neat and tidy too. I play This little piggy went to market with Jayda and then set up her post-box toy and we take turns posting the shapes into the holes, clapping each other and laughing when we get it right. "Again, again, again," she squeals.

We're just about to start playing puzzles when Mum appears at the door.

"I've been thinking," she says, leaning against the doorframe. "You could help me with the kids. And we'd get extra benefit too. It mightn't be such a bad idea."

Jayda wriggles her chubby toes. I try to swallow, but I can't.

"What will you say to Kev?" I ask.

"I'll tell him you're my niece," she says. "He's so useless he won't put two and two together. I'll say you're an orphan or something."

I twiddle a colourful puzzle piece in my hand. "Please tell me about Beckett," I say.

"Oh, you and your Beckett," she snaps, "Beckett this, Beckett that! Gabriella, you're giving me a headache."

"But where is he?" I say. "I thought he came to live with you. I stayed with Dad and he came with you. What happened? You have to tell me!"

Mum huffs. "I told you last night," she says. "As far as I'm concerned, he's dead, so do me a favour and give over asking, will you?"

I wish I could pick Jayda up and race to Connor's school and get him. I wish we could run away to somewhere kind and lovely and safe. I wish we had a granny or an auntie or someone special like that to go to. I wish we could go to Grace's mum.

I wish someone bigger could help.

Mum tells me I have to take Jayda and get Connor from school because she has a headache. I settle her in her bedroom with some headache pills and a big mug of tea. Then I pack a little picnic to take to the park and slip a football in a bag. Jayda babbles and chuckles in her pushchair, and even though the word niece digs into me like a splinter I feel happier for the first time in forever.

"I'll take care of you," I say to Jayda, while we're waiting at the gates. "I won't let her be mean to you any more. I promise. I'll be your mummy, or kind of mummy-ish big sister."

When Connor comes into the playground he's waving this picture of a boat proudly in his hand and beaming with excitement. I stoop down and talk to him about it for ages. He says it's a pirate boat going to a treasure island. He shows me the pirates inside and says it's me and Jayda and him. I roll his picture up and tuck it safely in the basket under Jayda's seat.

"It's brilliant, Connor," I say, smiling at the splodgy, wobbly shapes on the page. "We'll find a special place on the wall for it."

In the park we sit on the roundabout and eat cheese sandwiches and crisps and sip squash from a bottle that dribbles down our chins. I imagine I'm Grace's mum, all smiley and gentle. I wish I had money to buy white chocolate Magnums for us all. I wish there was a special place where we could dangle our feet in cool green water and watch the moorhens nesting.

We stay in the park for ages, spinning and sliding and swinging higher and higher, until we can see the rooftops s.h.i.+ning in the sun. When Jayda falls asleep in her pushchair with a sweet, sticky grin on her face, Connor and me get the football out. We play for hours until our feet are sore, until Connor has scored five goals, until my heart is full to the brim with love for them both.

Mum opens the front door to let us in, and her eyes are black with fury. Then Dad's fat red sunburnt face appears behind her.

"Dad?" I say, clinging on to the blue pushchair handles. "What are you doing here?"

"Good question," spits Mum. "As if it wasn't bad enough having you arrive on my doorstep without him turning up as well!"

We tumble into the front room and I'm trembling inside like a mouse under the glare of a cat. Jayda strains on her pushchair harness, trying to launch herself at a great pile of toys in the corner. Connor stays quietly next to me, his sweaty little hand clutching mine. Dad slumps on the sofa, picking at his blistered skin. Mum huffs into the kitchen.

"This sunburn is killing me," Dad says. "You'd never believe how hot it was out there."

I don't answer him. I'm swirling with confusion.

Mum huffs in with some tea, slamming the cups on the table. She unwraps a packet of biscuits, spraying sparkles of sugar all over the floor. She slumps on the sofa next to Dad and hits the remote, sparking the telly into life. Dad turns his body away from her and sighs. He crosses his arms and rests them on his fat belly as if it were a shelf. Mum does the same.

And I stand there feeling invisible.

Just like I always did. Just like forever.

"You got us into a right old mess, Gabriella," Dad says, his eyes pleading. "If you'd hadn't annoyed Amy so much with not tidying your room and stuff she might have let you come to the wedding. You might never have had to come up here in the first place. You could've come on holiday! Best we pack your things and get you back home ASAP."

"But what about the flat?" I say, kneeling on the floor and sipping my tea. "What about the rent?"

Mum's ears p.r.i.c.k up. She twitches her head from side to side not sure if the telly is more interesting than what's being said. Dad shrinks back.

"Trust me, it's all sorted, Gabriella," he says, his eyes searching for something safe to land on. "We're camping out at Amy's mum's house for a bit until we get back on our feet. I've got my fingers in a few pies, job-wise, and something smas.h.i.+ng will come up soon, I'm sure of it. Her mum's got a nice place near the swimming pool on Stonebridge."

"So it's all looking up for you then, Dave!" Mum snaps. "Not like some of us, stuck in this dump with two more kids and another rubbish husband."

Dad holds his hands over his mouth and rubs his chin. I wish I could run out of here with Connor and Jayda right now.

"Well," he says, looking at me, "things are on the up, I promise. But right now I'm in a little spot of trouble, Gabriella, and we need to get ourselves back home quick."

I feel like I'm sliding, like the room's been tipped up and everything's slipping away. "What kind of trouble?" I ask, fiddling with my too-long sleeve.

"It's school," says Dad. "They're all up in arms about me not telling them you'd come to your mum's place. I just never got round to calling them. They sent the police over and everything. Amy did her nut! And I tried to call you, Gabriella, loads of times. Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"I didn't have the charger," I say. "You forgot to pack it!"

"But where have you been?" he asks, slurping his tea and s.n.a.t.c.hing a peek at the telly. "Mum says you only just got here. Where were you all this time, Gabriella? I sent you off with clear instructions to find your way to Mum's."

"Where were you, Dave, more like?" snaps Mum. "You're supposed to be her father, you're the one that's supposed to know where she is! And what did you expect me to do with her anyway? Kev knows nothing about her!"

Then they both look at me like I'm the one who's done something wrong.

"I don't know where I've been," I say, twisting my jumper sleeve. "Everywhere. Nowhere."

Jayda tips the toybox up, sending thousands of plastic shapes skittering across the floor.

"Come on then, Gabriella," says Dad, rising from the sofa. "I'm not standing any more of this nonsense. Let's get out of here, shall we?"

Connor scurries over and grabs my hand, squeezing it tight, pleading with his eyes for me to stay.

"I'm not sure you're fit to take her," snaps Mum. "I think she should stay with me now. Right little gem she's been today, helping out with the kids. And the extra cash from Social Services'll come in handy, I can tell you!"

Dad's voice gets louder. "She's coming with me," he says, pointing his finger at Mum, "and there's nothing you can do about it. Anyway, you're hardly the model mother, are you?"

Then he looks at me. "Come on, Gabriella," he says. "Once we get settled in our new place you and me can cosy up and watch telly together while Amy's out at Zumba cla.s.s. We'll watch out for another one of those eclipse things if you like. It'll be lovely, just like old times, I promise."

"Don't go!" whispers Connor, pressing himself against me. "I like you here. I need more of that magic dust."

I stand in the middle of the room, totally invisible, while my parents start to fight like cats, my brain spinning faster than a fairground ride. I might as well not be here. This argument has nothing to do with me. It's all about them and what they need.

I'm pulled to Mum because of Connor and Jayda and I'm pulled to Dad because he looks so sad. But I don't want either of them.

"Where's Beckett?" I say. "I need to know!"

Mum switches the telly over and presses her hands to her ears, making a lalalalalaing noise like she can't hear me.

"You don't understand," I shout. "I need to see him!"

Jayda starts whimpering, toddles over and clings on to my leg. I sit on the floor and pull both of the kids on to my lap.

"What in the Lord's name has Beckett got to do with anything?" laughs Dad.

"Don't you want to see him too, Dad?" I ask. "Don't you want to see your own son while you're here?"

Dad twists his head round like a clockwork toy to face me.

"Oh, Gabriella," he says, rubbing his face with his palms. "He's not my son, love. Mum already had him when we met. He's nothing to do with me! Didn't we tell you that already?"

Something snaps inside me. I search for the minty feeling, but everything keeps snapping and breaking and cracking like an ancient tree in the wind. My head starts swimming with noise, the ground starts s.h.i.+fting beneath me again, like the floor will open up and we'll all go tumbling down.

I cling on to Jayda and Connor, feeling their soft, warm breath on my cheeks and their hearts pounding fast in my ears. I'm not leaving them with Mum. I'm not! I don't care what anyone says. I'm going to stay with them until I'm old enough to take care of them myself.

Dad gets up and towers over me. Connor stares at him with frightened rabbit eyes. Jayda stuffs her thumb in her mouth and sucks.

"Gabriella," he says, "listen to me, will you? It's time to go!"

"Oh, my! Look at Mr Big Man," says Mum, standing up and taunting him. "No one's ever listened to you before, Dave, so why do you think they'll start listening now?"